Wake up. Feed
brat cat. Get ready for work. Work. Exercise (maybe?).
Write. Sleep. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
is the type of routine we curse nearly every workday of our lives. I personally have one set of curses for
the alarm clock, another for the cat who won’t let me enjoy the snooze button,
a third for the idiots sharing the road to work with me, and a PG version for
school (my colleagues just choked on “PG”, but what is uttered in
team meeting, stays in team meeting!).
Exercise, when I’m in the mood, and writing, when my computer isn’t
eating hours of work, don’t usually require a special swear thesaurus, but I have plenty in my arsenal, just in case.
what is it we desire instead of our monotonous routines? V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N! (It sounds better when you’re singing
along to it with a frozen drink in your hand; trust me.) Vacation is the Holy Grail of workers
everywhere. We spend all year
saving and planning for one. We keep countdowns
on our desks, brag to our friends or co-workers, and practically dance out of
the work place on that final day.
If we’re lucky, and we saved enough, we’re off to exotic places where
our days will be filled with hot locals with hotter accents, plentiful
libations (in case the locals aren’t as hot as they sound), and breathtaking vistas.
If reality hits your savings account like a Mac truck on speed, however,
you find yourself with a couple weeks (okay, or months) at home–or mooching off
your parents and living at their home, which conveniently has a large deck and
close proximity to the beach. But,
hey, it’s not work, so who’s complaining?
this isn’t me complaining or in any way taking for granted that for the first
time since I was 13, I am enjoying a work-free, class-free, workshop-free, kid-free summer. (We’re not counting
learning a reading curriculum for a new grade, because, despite all my best
intentions, I won’t likely start that until my mid-August panic sets in.) With that said, such freedom has
pitfalls. With no alarm clock, the
cat’s on her own trying to drag me out of bed before 8:30, and she’s lucky if I
remember to feed her before noon.
Getting dressed has become optional. Is there really a difference between my pajama tank and my
The only ‘work’ I had to accomplish (other than the previously
mentioned, destined-to-be-delayed curriculum work) was to send two transcript
requests in order to get my raise.
As of mid-July: not done.
Apparently I’m rolling in dough and don’t need that money. Anyone want a yacht?
problem with the freedom to do anything is that I accomplish nothing. Okay, so I’ve found a gorgeous wooded
running trail and spent hours revising my sequel, but I’ve spent an equal
amount of time sitting around deciding what I should do next. I am way too antsy to be satisfied with
a summer of doing absolutely nothing.
But just to clarify, when done in moderation, going to the beach or
tanning on the deck does not constitute as nothing. So what’s a non-working girl to do? First, read and respond to emails from
friends reminding me of my blogging responsibilities. It’s wise to keep the BFFs happy, especially when they
currently make up my entire fan base.
Second, remind myself my parents were teachers too, and therefore I will
never be coming into a large inheritance; a raise is crucial. I will stop playing games on the phone
with my mother, who’s sitting in the room with me, long enough to send in the
summer vacation or not, I still need a routine. I’m not saying I’m ready to embrace six o’clock alarms or
Sunday afternoon correcting, but perhaps a compromise would suffice.
Wake up before 8:30 to feed hungry cat. Enjoy leisurely breakfast on deck. Get fully dressed before 10. Take care of real world requirements
(bills, emails, etc.). Work on
writing, including weekly blog posts!
Lounge on beach or deck.
Exercise someplace stunning.
Back to deck for outdoor dinner (and perhaps a cocktail, or two). Curl up to a good book. Fall asleep thanking my lucky stars I
have another month before I have to think about a real routine! Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.